


You said no gifts

by alittlemayhem



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Miscommunication, Out of Character, Slice of Life, crackfic, mention of food, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlemayhem/pseuds/alittlemayhem
Summary: Four times Sakusa wanted to kill Atsumu + The one time he did.orThat 4+1 crackfic.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 179
Collections: HQ Smutty Fluff-mas Exchange





	You said no gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisosly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisosly/gifts).



> A secret santa gift, for you Eli!!! I hope you seriously like it, this was so much fun for me to write. I hope you can feel the love. <3

“Atsumu, what the fuck is this?”

“Hm?” Atsumu pads toward him.

Sakusa’s face scrunched up and his voice distorted, as he reared his head towards him. Atsumu is standing in the frame of the doorway leading into the kitchen. _Their kitchen._ His lazy grin paired with a loose-fitting henley along with those cursed gray sweatpants is a one-two punch to Sakusa’s grip on anger. Nonetheless, he is angry. 

Shifting his weight so the toaster on the counter is in Atsumu’s line of sight, he utilizes the full outreach of his arms to silently accost his boyfriend’s actions. His curls bounce violently as his dramatic emphasis is being made. 

“ _THIS_.”

Laying there, placate in nature, protected by mere metal walls are:

Two

Soggy

Waffles

Blueberry. 

The same two waffles Sakusa watched Atsumu plop into the toaster this morning at 7 a.m. 

Looking out the window Sakusa notes that yes, the sun has indeed set, and yes, they are currently packing up the remnants of their dinner. 

“Omi, ya made me run out and grab ya breakfast. Just savin’ them fer later.” Atsumu chuckles as he ruffles through their drawers. His smile is blindingly adorable and his charm almost irresistible. _Almost._

“That’s disgusting Atsumu, they’ve been sitting out literally all fucking day. Throw them away. What-”

“We’re not a house that wastes waffles, Omi. M’gonna pop ‘em in the fridge and retoast them tomorrow r’somethin’.” 

True to his word, Atsumu lifts his hands, revealing a disposable sandwich bag. 

“Atsumu, you have got to be kidding me. What if a bug landed on that or something?!” 

“Omi, ya know damn well that if we had bugs in the house _you'd_ be freaking out.”

Reaching into the toaster, Atsumu fishes out the two flaccid waffles. He then plops them into the bag, sealing them away into their plastic prison. His grin fails to contain his wiley tongue as it dances across his lower lip.

Much to Sakusa’s disdain, Atsumu does deposit those waffles into the fridge, and they sit there _for days_ before Sakusa bites the bullet.

A small loss on his part. He grabs the baggie and throws it into the garbage with as much force as his jump serve.

_I’m going to kill him._

He doesn’t.

* * *

Sakusa enjoys a soothing bath at the end of a long day. While he’s mindlessly scrolling on Twitter, he chuckles at the onslaught of memes and fancams their fans feed them on a daily basis. Out of the corner of his eyes, something out of place and unordinary catches his attention.

A fraying empty toilet paper roll adorns their holder. This is typical Atsumu behavior, so by this point, he just rolls his eyes at the inconvenience. However, this time he has taken it too far. In a frustrated huff, Sakusa relents his emotions onto his keyboard. The notification dinging loudly in their adjacent bedroom. 

@kiyo_sakusa 🔒

Sometimes I just want to 🔪

[The photo is of a freshly unraveled toilet paper roll, barely used. Sitting atop a barren completely used toilet paper roll, that is still affixed to the holder.]

@komo-kin

Lmao, what the hell it takes two seconds.

@rin-rin

I told you he was a psychopath.

Huffing a puff of air in agreement he opens up his messages.

**Omi-Omi**

Are you a psychopath? 

**Blonde Osamu**

What are ya even talkin about omi?

**Omi-Omi**

*links tweet*

**Blonde Osamu**

Omg~ Omi yer so dramatic. 

He can hear Atsumu giggling from the bedroom.

“Ya don’t even use the toilet paper babe! Why did we buy that expensive bidet then?”

“That’s not the _point_ Atsu-”

“It’s the principle, yeah yeah. Ya comin’ to bed anytime soon? Betcha startin’ to look like umeboshi in there.”

Looking down at his palms, he laughs softly at his pruning skin. Plump warm hands grip his chin to look up at golden almonds. A chaste kiss on his pout is all it takes to wash his irritation down the drain.

Atsumu has got him wrapped around his fingers. 

* * *

Of course, Sakusa knew he would be privy to Atsumu’s microaggressions. But what he didn’t know was how Atsumu would have him head over heels in love at the same time. 

One ill-timed Tinder swipe _ages_ ago led him astray.

Sakusa found himself swiping away on three glasses of wine late at night. He spared no second thought when swiping right on his greek god of a setter. The same one he's had a crush on since high school. The same setter that doesn’t even know Sakusa is gay. 

_Fuck._

The room darkened and he slumped back into his bed, leaving the issue for future Sakusa. His slumber was soft and pillowy, a warm embrace, a beaming smile, cunning eyes. 

Future Sakusa is pissed at past Sakusa. 

He swallows his hangover, glaring at the notifications on his phone. The sun is shining through his curtains and the birds are chirping on what would be a lovely Sunday morning if, and only if, he did not just match with his sexy three-course meal friend and teammate. 

With a groan, he unlocks his phone to the messages that flood his app. All of them have the same flavor of Atsumu.

**Miya A**

Omi!

Ya swiped right on me! Ya think m’hot? I can’t believe it!

Feigning ignorance, Sakusa decides he’s just going to ignore this. It never happened. What is Tinder? 

Grumbling to himself, Sakusa wakes up and gets ready to take on the day. He’s halfway through the rising sun position when a loud knock on the door pulls him from his meditative state. Throwing a loose sleeveless tank top over his bare chest he strides towards the door.

“Ya can’t hide from me Omi!”

_Holy shit._

“What the hell, Miya, how did you find out where I live?”

Sakusa leans back, cold wood presses to the thin shirt, refusing to open the door. Sliding down to a squat, his calves threaten to burst through his leggings. Sakusa knocks his head on the door behind him in shame and agony. Pinching the bridge of his nose he only just now realized that Atsumu has been relentlessly spouting nonsense beyond the barrier. 

“And ya even left me on read!”

“Miya, why did _you_ swipe right?”

“Omi- I.”

His voice loses its volume, almost too quiet for Sakusa to hear. It delicately carries past the threshold reaching into Sakusa’s chest.

“Omi- please, I- m’not gonna lie, I was drunk and Rin was watchin’ me swipe and- it was a joke, but-”

It hurts. He knew it would. Why would Atsumu like him? He’s the worst.

“Leave.”

“No, listen to me- Please.”

His voice is cracking, it’s the only time Sakusa’s ever heard it feel so genuine. He doesn’t know when or how but as he pulls the door open Atsumu’s plea for acceptance is clear. His tousled hair still damp from the shower he must have just taken. His thighs squeezing against his jeans, the unholy grip of the dry-fit top that lay across his chest and arms. It’s sinful and unfair, he gulps down a whine.

“Miya.”

“Omi- I like ya, so much, ever since highschool ‘ve liked ya. Yer stupid bendy wrists. That smile you crack when ya think no one's lookin’. Yer goddamn thighs. It’s just, you. Always been you. Can’t be anyone other than you.” 

“Miya.” His own voice wavering in strength. The years of yearning bubbling in his chest. 

“No, Omi- please listen to me. I know this is a lot and ya might not even like me like that but I just-”

Reaching out to pull him into his apartment, Sakusa crashes their lips together. “Mmmph” Slamming the door shut the singsong alert dulls into the background as he pushes Atsumu further into his apartment. The onion layers of anxiety peel off one by one. Atsumu is here, he likes him back, he likes his thighs. 

Separating themselves they pant for air and search for affirmation.

“Omi, ya kissed me.” Atsumu’s face reflects a deep crimson.

“Yeah.” Sakusa relents, his own face matching in hue.

* * *

Slamming down to the other side of the net it’s just a split second. A second he spends grinning down at his cousin who has failed to save the ball, yet again. This game called for a reunion of sorts. With family and friends lining the rows, his pride is on the line. In his excitement, Sakusa lets out a rare show of emotion clapping hands with Atsumu, a toothy smile plastered onto his face.

His celebration, however, is short-lived. This is the worst part of a big win. Breaking off to grab his things, Sakusa is rushed with a barrage of flashing lights and unsanitized recording devices, pressing in his direction. Fans with eager hands reach for his attention. It’s overwhelming and, in his mind, rude. He stands still in contemplation. 

His normal approach won’t cut it here and he knows that. His shoulders start to weigh heavily on his posture. Breathing is noticeably more sporadic. Noticeable to Atsumu, of course. Sakusa was losing to the war with his nerves. His hands shook, his body trembled. From across the court, he could sense the unease. 

Rushing to his side, Atsumu took hold of Sakusa’s hand. Instinctively, Sakusa pulled slightly from his grip. Turning around to meet eyes with him, Sakusa is relieved to see Atsumu standing; one holding his hand while the other presents a face mask. 

It happens almost like a dream. 

Atsumu loops the mask around his ear pulling the other side over his face. The brush of his calloused fingers gently calms Sakusa’s nerves; his rigid demeanor practically melting into the soft gesture. Hiding his relief behind the mask, Sakusa is pulled from the soft moment to only realize that they are hand in hand, in public.

A small panic bubbles in his chest. They talked about going public before but had decided to wait due to Atsumu's reluctance. With this in mind, Sakusa shot Atsumu a worried look. His discomfort and doubts were clear as day.

With little to no hesitation, Atsumu squeezed his hand tightly, returning his look of worry with a bright and carefree smile. His soft reassurance was all Sakusa needed to regain his composure.

It was here, with all of their friends and family present that they would become public.

"Ya have ta wait till he's all squeaky clean to get an interview. Guys, ya know that.”

"Miya-san!! Are you announcing your relationship?”

Their loud questions fade into the background as Sakusa stares into Atsumu’s warm and gentle look. "Hah, yeah, guess I am." Atsumu’s grin spreads across his face. 

Sakusa hates it, he loves him.

* * *

A mess of limbs married to the smell of arousal, and a dash of holiday spirit, is the atmosphere of their morning. 

Sweaty legs and arms too big for their queen-sized mattress lay dormant atop their silk comforter. As usual, Atsumu is the first to stir. Cracking open the sliding door, he’s rushed with a cold breeze, stepping out his bare feet into the soft snow. Leaning over the railing, his body was overwhelmed by goosebumps all over. Yet his deep sigh relays none of that.

It’s Christmas eve and Atsumu is, for better words, lonely. He normally spends his Christmas with his shitty brother engulfing copious amounts of fried chicken, beer, and strawberry cake. This year, however, Osamu sent him a Christmas card from Amsterdam. _Figures._ The honeymoon faze between those two is disgusting. As if summoned, two slender wrists clasp around his bare chest.

“Atsumu, if you get sick out here, I’m leaving you.”

His voice is hoarse and raspy.

“Hah- Omi ya know that would be more believable if ya weren’t begging fer me the whole night.”

A harsh slap on the back followed by a tug back into the apartment is his only warning. The two laugh as they collapse back into the warm embrace of their bed. 

Their day consists of small traditions that are horribly cliche, but endearing in nature. A trip to the shrine, a day spent shopping, holding hands while walking through the lights. It’s cute and heartwarming and fills the loneliness in his heart.

So when they stumble back into the apartment, Atsumu is surprised to find their home decorated in bright lights and sparkly tinsel.

“Omi- how-we were together all day!”

With a laugh, Sakusa pushes him further in, popping Atsumu’s mouth closed and telling him to join him in the shower before dinner. 

Dinner, which is an assortment of the greasiest, crunchiest, most romantic fried chicken Atsumu has ever ingested. 

Sitting under their kotatsu watching yet another episode of some British baking show, Atsumu can’t help but feel so content with their day. Looking down at the sleepy mess of curls leaning on his chest, he can’t picture any other way he’d want to spend his holiday. 

Running his fingers through his soft locks he leans in to kiss Sakusa’s temple. Stirring him awake. Their matching knit sweaters, socks, and pajama pants scream domestication.

Time stops. The snow pillowing on the windowsill reflects the moonlight closing them into their own world. Their clock chimes midnight softly in the background.

Sakusa leans back upright. His soft smile could kill. 

“I know we said no presents, but-”

“Omi what the hell.”

“Atsumu, shutup for one second.”

And he does. Sakusa reaches for both of his hands, his voice quivering.

Atsumu’s eyes go wide with anticipation, it’s clear what is about to happen, but he never thought it would be Sakusa to initiate.

“Atsumu, every day you inspire me to push myself to greater heights. I came to Osaka alone and made a home of it with you. You, so familiar to me, and so welcoming. The boy on the other side of the net became the man in my heart.”

Atsumu’s vision goes blurry. Pressing his thumb to wipe away the tears, Sakusa swallows his nerves and presses on.

“I can’t see myself in a future where you aren’t there. So, be in it. Be mine. Atsumu, will you marry me?”

Atsumu can only muster a choked sob as he pulls Sakusa into his embrace.

“No way!”

Sakusa stills. His body completely tense, his voice shaking.

“What?”

“I- I mean yes of course! Oh my god, can’t believe yer the one proposin’ and not me.”

“God- you idiot.”

Bumping their foreheads together, Sakusa adorns Atsumu’s finger with a simple silver band, a lone diamond encased in the center. 

“Merry Christmas.”

And Atsumu falls.

Like Icarus, he’s reached his sun. His face streaked with tears of joy. Atsumu falls and is no more. 

-Sakusa Atsumu-

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the first two are based on true events! 
> 
> Come be my friend on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/sakusasmask504)
> 
> Please drop me a comment below. I'd love to hear from you!!
> 
> [Here](https://twitter.com/sakusasmask504/status/1338883238585044993?s=20)  
> is the post!


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